


Only Once

by antichrist



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2784113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antichrist/pseuds/antichrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They only ever kissed once. Once."</p><p>A rewriting of the scene from The Death Cure outside the weapons room where Newt gives Thomas the note. Thomas is sitting by himself after everything and gets emotional about Newt.</p><p>This is un-betaed, so I am very sorry if there are any typos or anything like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Once

They only ever kissed once. Once.

Oh, what Thomas wouldn’t give to have some of those hours with Newt back, to have figured his shit out just a little sooner. He knows it wouldn’t change anything – Newt would still not be immune, and would still have succumbed to the Flare – but now, Thomas has to live with the knowledge that he maybe could have given Newt a happier last weeks, and he had failed.

They had been standing outside the weapons room, and Newt had just given Thomas the note. Thomas had seen the anger flash in Newt’s eyes as he’d tried to read it, and been given strict directions to _only_ read it when the time was right. They’d looked at each other for a few seconds, the anger subsiding, and then Newt had placed a hand on Thomas’ neck and taken a deep breath.

“I love you, Tommy.” There had been a look in Newt’s eyes, then, that Thomas knew he had seen countless times before, but only just then realised what meant. It was like all the air went out of him, got sucked out of his lungs, and his eyes stung as he suddenly understood everything.

“Yeah,” he had said. A small pause, and then, “I love you too, Newt.” Newt looked like someone had slapped him in the face.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” The hurt on Newt’s face was unbearable. “Don’t say it back just because you know I’m going to go crazy and die. I don’t need you to say it back if you don’t mean it, slinthead.” There was no anger then, only desperation and sorrow, and the hand on Thomas’ neck tightened.

Thomas could hardly breathe. “I’m not,” he had whispered, taking Newt’s other hand in his own, but he could tell Newt didn’t believe him.  No longer able to stand being looked at like he’d just announced that he was the one who was dying, he had taken a step forward, closed his eyes, and then the final gap between them.

The kiss couldn’t have lasted more than five seconds. Five seconds of the worst jumble of emotions Thomas had ever experienced. Fear. Happiness. Sorrow. A whole bunch of other things he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Their lips hardly even moved against each other, but Newt’s hands grasped Thomas a little tighter, and Thomas could feel his shaky exhale against his skin.  When he pulled away, Newt’s eyes were glistening, but the utter grief that had been there earlier had not left his face.

“Just promise me you’ll do what it says,” he had choked out, nodding towards the note now safely in Thomas’ pocket. “Please, Tommy.” Thomas had nodded, and then Newt had pushed past him into the weapons room without another word.

Thomas blinks back the tears he can feel coming on at the memory. He’s sitting alone on a hill, looking down upon the other Immunes he escaped with. This small society they had built together. Thomas only wishes they had one more person. Only one. The sobs start tearing themselves out of his throat, then, and he doubles over, arms around his legs. He can’t see through the tears, can hardly even keep his eyes open anymore, but he doesn’t care.

Suddenly, there is a hand on his shoulder, and someone is talking to him, slowly, carefully. Minho.  “Thomas, you stupid shuckface, why you sitting here all alone?” There’s no menace to the words, only worry. Thomas can feel Minho sit down next to him, and the next thing he knows there’s an arm around him, and he’s being pulled to Minho’s side.

“I can’t –,” Thomas starts, but is interrupted by another sob. Minho’s other hand has come up around his head, and is stroking Thomas’ hair soothingly. A few rasping breaths later, Thomas tries again. “I c-can’t stop th-thinking about Newt.” He nearly chokes trying to say it. He feels pathetic crying to Minho about it – Minho had, after all, known Newt for more than two years, and Thomas had only known him for a few months in total.

Minho doesn’t seem to judge, though, only replies with, “I know, Thomas. Me neither,” and Thomas can hear that his friend’s voice is slightly thicker than it usually is. They don’t say anything for about half a minute, and Thomas’ crying stills a little. “You know,” Minho says, “I think he was in love with you.” From the look on Minho’s face when Thomas looks up at him, he hadn’t meant to say it, and he immediately lets go of Thomas. “Shuck, Thomas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t – shuck it, I swear I didn’t mean to say that, you –.” He pauses, looks at Thomas. Thomas can feel the pained expression on his face, can feel his facial muscles betray everything he has tried so hard to hide since they settled down here. “You already knew that,” Minho says, and the look he gives Thomas tells him that his friend is hurting at least as much as he is. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I’m so shucking sorry.” He wraps his arms around Thomas again, and hugs him so hard Thomas thinks his neck might break.

They don’t move for a while. How long, Thomas couldn’t possibly say.

“I was in love with him, too,” he mutters after a while, Minho’s shirt muffling his words.

Minho doesn’t reply, only holds him tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I only really write fics that involve sex-scenes, so this is very new to me, but this ship literally hurts me too much right now to be writing a sex-scene. Maybe I'll write one later when I'm not in constant pain from That Fucking Page.


End file.
